Blacksun Week Day 5: Sunrise/Sunset
Day 5 is here! As always, this will also by on ao3! @blacksunweek
Menagerie, Blake knows, has its problems. Overcrowding is a rampant issue; people are lucky if they get a room to themselves, even luckier if itâs an entire floorâs worth of space. Only a select few are given a detached building to live in on their own, usually for their service to the fledgling nation. Food is almost always in scarce supply; save for the summer season, when the harsh landscape can afford to relinquish more of a yield on fruit and game than the rest of the year. The economy is hardly existent, kept afloat more on a barter system than the exchange of lien. Trade embargoes from nearly every kingdom, particularly from Atlas at the behest of the SDC, keeps them from expanding into the world economy to grow their assets.
Years ago, she had hated this place and what her father was trying to do with it. Now, having walked amongst the people and heard what theyâve had to sayâŚshe thinks she can finally understand his methods.
She and Sun have just finished their most successful rally less than an hour ago. Though successful may be too strong of a term, given that only a handful of people had stuck around long enough to hear what they had to say. Slowly but steadily, though, more people were beginning to sign the registration form, and it was slowly easing a weight off Blakeâs chest she hadnât even fully known was present. A small number of their supporters were even beginning to discuss the logistics of securing transportation over Mistral borders. Some others have offered to scavenge up weapons, to begin familiarizing themselves with the basics of combat. Itâs a situation she wants to avoid, but in the event that a confrontation with the White Fang led to a skirmish, she didnât want their blood needlessly spilling on the floor. For all of their progress, however, the reality is that they simply werenât progressing fast enough.
Still, even she can admit she needs a break now and then. So when Sun had suggested they go to the aquatic district, maybe grab something to eat from a food stall heâd taken a particular liking toâ if he remembered to bring his wallet with himâ she hadnât heeded the voice in her head telling her it was a waste of time. Instead, she decided to go along with him, if for no other reason than the promise of food, with her stomach clenching in a pitiful reminder that she hadnât eaten all day. They were yet to get a meal, however; the owner of the food stall had stepped away for his own meal with his family, but not without a promise to return just for his favorite regular customer and a knowing wink tossed Sunâs way.
The waiting grates on Blakeâs nerves. Every second wasted is one that could be spent on more important things, and as of late itâs seemed like she can feel the pressure of her duty as a physical presence on her shoulders. Even the shadow of the White Fang seems to snap at her heels wherever she wentâ in more than one, if one considered the threats and warnings left by Ilia to be legitimate. Her fears were only bolstered by the knowledge that the few weeks remaining before the White Fangâs attack on Haven Academy were slipping through the metaphorical hourglass at breakneck speed. It had taken the White Fang years to gather a counterforce and train the combatants, back when human raids were commonplace; and here Blake is, trying to accomplish all of that and more in less than a month.
It certainly doesnât help that protestors are beginning to mobilize wherever she and Sun go to hold a scheduled rally, ruining what little positive impact theyâre making.
In the background, the ocean waves are surging lazily over a white sand beach. Itâs a quiet hum that she pays little attention to as she scrolls through the list of signatures that are laid bare on the azure screen of her Scroll. A few dozen names stare back at her, along with plenty of empty lines waiting to be signed. Just more disappointment to look forward to, she thinks, bitterness tinging her inner voice. She keeps scrolling through the list, swiping her thumb up and down the glass absentmindedly in the hopes that if she continues searching, more names will appear on the screen before her. Iâve got as much of a chance of that happening as I do with everything else Iâm doing, she thinks bitterly.
Despite her cynical thoughts, she knows the problem isnât with her and Sunâs efforts. They had been campaigning every day, all across Kuo Kuana, passing out flyers and speaking to anyone who would give them the time of day. But the unfortunate truth is that not enough people are responding to the call to defend Haven. On the contrary, many were outright condemning it whenever they saw her and Sun. After all, why should Menagerie fight for a human kingdom? Why should they defend those people who extend the bare minimum of common curtesy to their kind? Not only that, but they only do so because of all the spilled blood which had bought the Faunus people their rights? Why should they put their lives on the line for a kingdom like Mistral, who still allow for so much rampant discrimination?
Adam had once said the same.
âYouâre asking my men to die for your causeâ a human cause. That is not an idea I am willing to entertain.â
WellâŚAdam had said a lot of things. Blake still isnât sure which things were true and which were not.
Sheâs on her fifth pass down the list when a soft, tawny tail curls gently over her hand. A scowl contorts her brow when the appendage grasps her scroll, then pulls it out of her grasp. She doesnât bother fighting for it, instead opting to turn a deadpan glare at the guilty party as he stows her scroll into his back pocket. At her side on their shared bench, Sun gives a smug grin in response, his eyes squinting at the corners in the evening light, and nods his head to the side.
âCâmon, youâre missing it!â he says excitedly, gesturing in front of them both. Blake offers nothing in response, while her ears flatten against her skull as she considers what to say that would convey the severity of the situation.
Ultimately, she knows he wonât be deterred from whatever it is he wants to distract her withâŚbut she can at least manage another second or two of a patronizing look, canât she? Itâs the least he deserves for this behavior. Why canât he just see how important it is for them to keep working? It seems like no-one else can accomplish this except for them, since none of their supporters are exactly lining up to recruit on their own. Adamâs attack is only weeks away, and Sun wants to laze away as if this were a vacation. Her ears press further into her hair with a twitch.
But Sun, for all his quirks and volatile mannerisms, can be considerate at times. And it is his gentle touch which breaks her from her thoughts.
He leans forward, the soft grin on his face one that she has become well acquainted with over the months, until their faces are mere inches apart. She blinks, though she doesnât move away from his advance. Uncertainty at what it is heâs trying to accomplish overtakes her annoyance from only moments earlier, and then she briefly registers the feeling of his fingers curling against her skin, holding underneath her chin to turn her head forward. Just as heâs moving her, one of his arms drapes across her shoulder to tug her forward so that she is leaned away from the back of the bench. Before she can think to argue, she finds herself overlooking the expanse of the aquatic district in Kuo Kuana from their shared vantage point atop the old docks crisscrossing over the shoreâs edge like cracks on a pane of glass.
What she sees is the sky on fire.
Indigo clouds paint the air, hung high where the night sky was only just beginning to reveal itself in shades of navy blue bleeding into soft, pale yellow. Where the sun meets the horizon, the ocean blazes in violet and gold hues. Aquatic Faunus of various species dot the coastline and, where some breach the surface, their scales and fins glow with rainbow-hued refractions before they dive beneath the waves, appearing as if they swim in a field of dusk.
I forgot what the sunset looks like here, she realizes, though the thought is distant and quiet.
Sun lets out a sigh from his place beside her, and out of the corner of her eye she can see him stretching out the length of his legs before him. Blake pays it little mind; she can barely take her attention away from the sunset.
She had never given much attention to just how beautiful Kuo Kuana is. Especially before she had left it, and its memories, behind for a failed revolutionâŚshe had never seen a reason to. Before, it had always been a reminder of humanityâs backhanded generosity, just a prison dressed up in pretty foliage and familiar faces. Even upon her return, not much had truly changed. She still saw the same things as before. The overwhelming crowding of people shoved into shacks and huts, the dangerous terrain, the starvation, the poverty. Despite these things, however, she had been surprised to see that some efforts have been made to improve the city; there are certainly more well-structured buildings making up the cityscape. The roads are wider, and actually paved with concrete and stone now, instead of gravel and sand. The markets are better stocked with goods than before, and people are trading with coin rather than food and services.
It never ceases to amaze Blake how she always seems to miss these small details. Too focused on the future, she never finds herself fully living in the present. And while itâs true that hindsight is usually accompanied by perfect clarity, it allows one to forget the minute things. Like the way the voices in the marketplace were always quieter in the dawnâs early light, or how the palm trees would sway their leaves even when there was no breeze to stir them. Or the crowded streets ebbing and flowing with people, living their lives in vibrant color. The ocean air washing over the coastal beaches which belied an entirely separate civilization of Faunus, the ones who carved their homes into of the rock and coral lining Menagerieâs shallow ocean floor.
She hadnât been able, or even willing, to pay much attention before. And it also isnât lost on her that it is due to the presence of the boy next to her that she is able to do so now.
âIt doesnât look like this back home,â he says softly.
Blake finally tears her gaze away from the dazzling sky to look at him; Sun, who doesnât meet her stare, but instead looks out over the ocean with an unreadable look in his gunmetal eyes. His legs are still splayed out across the salt-stained boards of the deck. His free hand is curled loosely in his lap whilst his tail waves absentmindedly behind the back of the bench they are seated at. It occasionally brushes against the fabric of Blakeâs coat, though she barely notices it, along with the weight of his arm still hung across her shoulders. Â
His hair shimmers in the evening light. She doesnât know how she had never seen it, even though she remembers a similar effect that she had seen before. But in comparison to her memories of Menagerie, which had been jagged with bitterness and tainted by dreams of revolution, this particular memory aches, dull and heavy in her chest. The memory of Beacon Academy, of Team RWBY. The darkness surrounding the day she had left them all behind.
In comparison, Sun isâŚradiant, the softness of sunrise and the regality of the dusk merging together into this boy beside her. Heâs burnt away those memories over the course of these last few months, replacing them with something brighter and lighter.
âI mean, in Vacuo. Itâs notâŚall of this.â She isnât imagining the sadness in his voice when he speaks, and she startles out of her trance once again because the emotion is so far removed from anything sheâs heard from him, it comes as a shock to hear something she is so keenly familiar with in the words of another. He doesnât wait for her to respond, gesturing his hand towards the sky in a half-hearted gesture. âAnd with the ocean? Before I went to Haven, Iâd never seen so much water in my life. Still canât really believe itâs actually out here, you know? Man, Vacuo sunsets really look like crap compared to this.â He laughs, but itâs tinged with a bitter note. âMost of Vacuo does, actually.â
Her ears twitch, ruffling her hair. âMenagerie isnât perfect,â she says, though itâs a weak retort. Despair is already welling inside her, fueled by the belief that she is about to crush his expectations. Sun shuts his eyes.
âI know that now,â he says, the words coming out as the sigh of someone who has stopped living a dream. âEverywhere has its flaws, especially the places that say theyâre perfect. But all my lifeâŚIâve heard about how Menagerie is a âsafe havenâ for people like me. Being a street kid growing up in the desert, it was like a fairy tale for when things got rough. AndâŚnow Iâm here.â Sunâs lips turn upward in a more genuine smile.
âYou werenât too happy to see me at first,â he admits, âand I get why you were so mad.  ButâŚI think weâre really doing some good trying this Haven thing. And being here is just the cherry on top. So Iâm glad that I can be here, and that I get to be here with you.â
Blake turns her gaze back out to the sunset.
She knows that Sun has never been one to speak about his past. Before the Fall of Beacon, he had only rarely brought it up in vague terms, always seeming more focused on his efforts of drawing Blake out of her shell. Even with all of his pestering it had taken days, which had slowly stretched into months, for her to be willing to give him even a part of her story. Even that had been built more with half-truths than anything substantial. Whether they would sit outside Valeâs numerous cafes with cups of tea, roam the campus grounds and libraries for hours until the sun sank below the harbor waters, or walk side-by-side in obscure parks, Sun was always talking to her about her. Now that she thinks about it, Blake had told him more about her life than sheâd ever told her own teamâ and wasnât that just another bit of guilt to add on top of the landscape of sins she had built when it came to team RWBY?
But SunâŚhe never divulged in return. He always let her speak when she needed to, taking what she offered and never asking for more than that.
Therefore, it comes as just a slight shock to hear him speak about his home country the way he had. Though she supposes she shouldnât be so surprised. With Vacuo, it was to be expected. But out of all the kingdoms, Blake knows the least of the desert that Sun had grown up in. It had been less important on the White Fangâs agenda than places like Vale or Mistral, owed largely to Vacuoâs lax nature when it came to things like the law and politics. From what little she did understand, she has always known Vacuo to be as harsh and unforgiving as its dunes. She simply doesnât know the extent of it. She probably never will until Sun confides in her as she had with him. Until he trusts her as she trusts him, even if she hasnât had the greatest track record of showing it.
âIâm glad youâre here too.â The confession leaves her as a whisper carried out to sea by the breeze that stirs her hair. Itâs a truth she hadnât realized until it was too late to keep it silent.
She hears Sunâs sudden breath, and feels his stare on her skin, the warmth of his undivided attention on her as his arm tenses around her for a moment.
Her hands are fisted over her knees, and her grip tightens while she watches seagulls glide over the water in a vain attempt to ignore the way Sun is looking at her. But she canât stave off her curiosity for long, and out of the corner of her eye she glances at him to see the awestruck, wide-eyed look heâs fixed on her, his lips slightly parted as though he had been about to speak. Perhaps she had stolen the words from him with what she had said. The corner of her mouth twitches into a smile at the thought, and Sunâs gaze flicks over to the movement for just a moment before returning to meet her look, even though sheâs yet to turn her head to face him; for once, sheâs made Sun Wukong truly speechless, and she canât help but take a light-hearted pleasure in that despite the gravity of what she has said, and the situation the two of them are in.
She isnât sure of the exact moment when her indifference towards him had softened into contentment, then into gratitude, and now into some nameless feeling she canât put a word to yet. For some time now, sheâs known that the thought of giving it a name is still too daunting. But even still she knows that, ever since they had first met, Sun has always been a spark she can almost see behind her closed eyelids, if she truly searches for it. And in this moment, as sheâs memorizing the way Sun is illuminated by the setting sun, as he stares at her like she has hung the moon for him, she feels like the word for this feeling is something similar to falling.
Sunâs arm tugs on her, and Blake only realizes heâs pulling her closer to him once sheâs pressed to his side, his head resting at the top of her skull, nestling between her ears which brush against his hair, her face pressing to his shoulder. Thereâs only a heartbeat before she feels like sheâs as hot as the blazing sun that has now sunk further into the ocean, her cheeks warm to the point of blistering, and the smile that had been growing on her face comes to a halt while her eyes widen.
âThanks,â he says, his voice a quiet thunder beneath her cheek. Sheâs about to respond, though she doesnât know what sheâs going to say, and she opens her mouth to speakâ
âI donât know what youâd do without me after all, Iâm sure at least four of those signatures are âcause of me.â
Gods, she can hear the smile in his voice, and she rolls her eyes.
âWe were having a moment, Sun,â she says then, and itâs with a reluctance she refuses to acknowledge that she pulls away from the warmth of his physical presence. He retracts his arm from around her, and just like the water surging over the sand before them, the moment has left with no evidence of its passing. She does manage to finally look Sun in the eye, however, and even though he is grinning like heâs won the lottery, his eyes are still soft and darkened with that same awed look heâd been staring at her with earlier.
He looks like heâs about to speak when a rather awkward cough sounds from behind them.
Blake stiffens, a frown turning her lips down and her ears perking straight up as she whirls on her seat to look over her shoulder. Sun is just as quick to turn, with a sheepish smile on his own face. The two of them are met with the owner of the food stall, who had abandoned his station further down the dock to walk over to the pair of them. The scales on his face glisten as he tilts his head to appraise them, and after a moment he quirks an eyebrow.
âYou know Iâve been waiting for you two to come over for the pastâŚâ he looks at his wrist, tapping an imaginary watch as he moved, ââŚtwenty-something minutes, right?â he says. He sounds amused, but Blake is once again reminded that she hasnât eaten. The entire reason they were here in the first place slams back into focus, and she turns to fix an accusatory look on Sun. He has the nerve to shrug and not look the least bit surprised by the presence of the shopkeeper.
Blake doesnât miss the lack of shock in Sunâs eyes at the other manâs presence, and the realization that follows is enough to make her stomach growl in displeasure at being deprived the food sheâd been waiting for. âYou knew heâd already come back this whole time, didnât you,â she says, and she glowers when Sun nods.
âWe were having a moment!â he says quickly, and Blake lunges to lightly punch a part of his arm that she can reach, though he dodges it and raises his hands in mock surrender before they start volleying words at each other. The shopkeeper lets the pair of them bicker for a moment before he lets out a laugh. âIâve got your orders ready if you want to come sit at the stall,â he informs them, and they both look back at him just as he winks. âI hope youâre able to give a decent tip! itâs well past closing time, after all.â
They make their way to the stall, Sun and Blake trailing behind and perhaps walking too close to one another than may be considered conventional. Theyâre only just sitting down on the painted stools set at the teal wooden counter when Sun sheepishly pats at his pockets and announces that he must have left his wallet back at the house. Still, Blake is hard pressed to feel annoyed when she looks at him to see gold light still spun through his hair thanks to the now dying sunset; though sheâs quick to remind him that sheâll be adding this charge onto all the other times heâs âforgottenâ his wallet so that she could foot the bill.
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